Thoughts
by Maxy Steel
Summary: Uh...can't really think of anything. One of my many takes on how Josh decided to become Max Steel.


_General disclaimer: Max Steel belongs to many companies, Kids' WB!, two different computer animation companies, and a whole mess-o corporate executives. This story is my personal work derived from my inner child getting hold of an uzi and obliterating my good side._

  


**THOUGHTS**

**BY:**

**Maxy Steel**

  


Tall, blond, Josh McGrath was in a state of severe confusion. Only days ago, he had recovered from what had to be one of the most horrifying times of his life. It had left him with enhanced abilities, almost twice his old strength, but required regular blasts of this stuff called transphasic energy. To be blunt, it disgusted him to no end. Relaying on some outside source for life, like some pathetic drug addict.

"Why, just why did I have to follow that guy?" he asked himself harshly, pounding a fist on the sand. The beach he was trying to relax at was completely empty, considering it was almost two in the morning. He knew he should be inside, sleeping like a normal person. But sleep hadn't come easily lately. Not to mention, the blond teenager highly doubted he _could_ be classified as normal at this point. Besides trying to adjust to the strange feeling of his updated body, his sleep was plagued by nightmares of the odd man he had followed. The guy with the metal face. He still had no idea what the freak's name was, assuming he even had one. The teenager sighed, and laid back on the sand. In an attempt to lighten his mood, Josh tried naming the blessings that had accompanied this so far definite curse. The first thought was the quiet Spanish kid, Roberto Martinez. If it hadn't been for him, Josh was certain his father would be laying him six feet under at this moment. In return, Josh had made fast friends with the reserved scientist, the youngest agent at N-tek that he knew of. Berto, as he called the younger teenager, had been perfectly happy with the friendship. Then there was Rachel, in his opinion, a very pretty and sophisticated older woman. She _was_ seven years his senior, after all. She seemed to be ignoring him, looking the other way. He only saw her because she worked with Berto. That didn't stop him from being interested, however. But besides the people, Josh realized another gift. He was now considerably more strong, agile, and fast than he could have hoped, even with years of weight-training, which he had never had any intention of doing. In the back of his mind, the boy knew there were other, untapped additions to his arsenal, but no one had told him. 

"Ahh, life is too weird," he sighed, getting up, and brushing sand off his shorts. A shake of his head to rid his hair of extra sand particles, and he was off.

*****

The next morning was a Sunday, which was missed completely by Josh, who woke around noon. With a disgruntled sigh, and a glare at his bedside clock, the teenager got up, pulled on a sweatshirt hanging on his bedpost, and wandered out to the kitchen. Grabbing an apple, he leaned against the door frame and ate it unusually slowly. 

"Hmm....Sunday...no school...what am I supposed to do? Laura's studying, so's Pete..." the teenager mused, throwing away the core. He headed back to his room to get dressed in suitable clothing for venturing outdoors. 

Rather than go swimming, surfing, rock-climbing or whatever else he did on weekends, Josh chose to head to N-tek, intent on trying to pry more information out of Berto. As much as he wanted to believe that the younger teenager had told him the entire truth, he didn't think that was true.

"Beautiful day, and what am I doing? Finding out if there's a remote control that can make me explode on command or something," he muttered to himself, going over the speed limit, as males his age were prone to do. It probably wasn't that bad, come to think of it. But if it wasn't, then why wouldn't they tell him?

The teenager arrived at N-tek sooner than he expected, and blamed it on his speeding. He jumped over his door, and trotted inside the familiar building. Bypassing the sports memorabilia coated walls, the boy made his way to the equipment testing area. Waving a greeting at one of the young jocks checking out a pair of new roller skates, the young man ducked into the shortcut into the garden shed, and found the elevator.

"McGrath, JM001," he told the intercom, using his father's code, which his foster father had given him. The elevator obediently bleeped, and began it's slow descent. The teenager stepped from the clear fiberglass transporter, and wandered around the lower regions of the building, which were gradually becoming as familiar as the sports technology world above. However, he wasn't especially in tune to the area, quite yet, and found himself getting lost on his way to find his father's office. But, persistence paid off, and he found the massive metal door. It creaked painfully loudly as he pushed it open. 

"Hi?" the teenager greeted, sticking his head into the room. The French guy he'd met not long after he'd been infused was talking with his father about something, but had abruptly cut off by the door opening. Jean, Jean Mairot, he remembered the guy's name being. The teenager offered a smile of greeting. Both Mairot and Smith nodded in reply.

"Josh. There something wrong?" Mairot questioned in greeting. The blonde shook his head.

"Nah. This place is so big, I was just trying to pick out points to tell me where I was," he replied easily. Jefferson got up, and walked over to his son.

"Well, if you have any questions, then either of us can answer," he told the considerably younger man. Josh shifted from one foot to the other, wondering if this was the right person to ask. Grilling Berto might be easier, but then again, it might be harder. 

"Well...I was wondering. About those nano-tech things I was covered in. You guys already told me that they doubled my strength and speed. Did they do anything else?" he asked, keeping his voice steady, careful not to let any emotions, like concern, enter his tone. Smith sighed, and turned his head to look at Mairot. The French agent shook his head slightly, confusing the blonde teenager even more than he already was. The father turned back to his foster son.

"I'm sorry, Josh. I can't answer that, not now, in any event," he said evenly. The shocked and hurt look in the boy's eyes quickly turned to anger.

"Why?! Dad, what's so bad about these things, that you can't tell me?" he demanded. The older man sighed, and looked away from the teenager.

"For the moment, you're safer not knowing," he explained in a round-about fashion. Josh's face flushed with anger, and he glowered at his father. He completed a sharp about-face, and stalked from the room, slamming the door behind him. He was halfway down the hall, when the door opened.

"Josh, wait!" Smith yelled at him. The boy clenched one hand into a fist, but kept walking. Following blind paths, he managed to make an escape from N-tek itself, found his car, and drove away, speeding even more than he had before.

He got home in about half the time it should have taken him, and entered the house to find a message on his machine. Shutting the door and then pounding on it for good measure, he stepped over, and pushed the button.

"Josh, I know you're angry. But you have to understand. I'm only doing what I know is best--" the machine started spitting his father's words. Josh cut it off with a clipped karate chop that splintered the plastic casing. Seconds later, he was shutting the door, and running off down the street. He had to get away, for a little while, at the very least. At the moment, he felt as if the whole world had some sort of big secret hidden from him. It was a stressful thought. He had to wonder how long before he'd get over his anger, and be ready to face his father. Rushing out like this was going to get him a nice lecture, but a few moments where he could be sure that he wouldn't be disturbed was worth it. He had some thinking to do.

Almost an hour later, Josh surprised himself by having walked to his college. Being a Sunday, the area was almost empty, save the security guards. Aimlessly, he roamed the area, and found the rec center. Inside, there was a scant number of people. About ten students were working out, and another twenty sitting around at tables with open textbooks. Along with about fifteen or so just hanging around, doing absolutely nothing. Trying to be inconspicuous, he slipped into the men's locker room, found his, and pulled out the T-shirt and shorts he kept there. Quickly changing, he exited the locker room, and went to the machines. Situating himself in front of the punching bag, the teenager lit into it with a ferocity he could possess only in times of intense anger. Punch after punch, upper-cut, side kick, jump kick, punch. Another student came over and watched him for a moment. The blond teen was too absorbed in his actions to bother with looking to see who it was.

"Chill out, are you training for the Olympics or just really grumpy, McGrath?" a female voice asked him tartly. Breathing hard, Josh turned to see Laura standing behind him.

"Oh...hi Laura," he greeted, offering the best smile he could come up with at the moment. In reply, the dark-haired Chinese girl kissed him.

"I was hoping you'd show up. I forgot to call to see if you wanted to meet me," she explained. Even though he was fairly sweaty, Josh still hugged her in greeting.

"I was busy up until I came in here. Studying," he explained, reasonably truthfully. Laura still had no idea about the accident at N-tek. He'd told her it was a bad case of the flu. She had believed him. That alone had nearly sent him back into the medical bed, out of shock.

"Yeah, me too. Finals and all. I wish I wasn't leaving so soon after school gets out. But my grandfather really wants to see me..." Laura told him.

"Hey, it's okay. I understand completely," he told her, smiling. Laura returned the expression, and brushed a stray lock of hair from his eyes. He smiled and leaned down to kiss her.

Nearly two hours later, Josh left the rec center, alone, and continued his wanderings. He walked back towards his house, but ended up stopping at the park a few blocks away. With a sigh, he sank down on a bench.

"I'm going to be in big trouble when I get back," he grumbled to himself, clapping a hand to his forehead. Behind him, he heard children playing on the swings. Laughing, shouting, calling to one another. Then a yelp, and some crying. He turned when the tearful whimpering came closer to him, and then was right behind him. A little girl of five was sitting on the bench beside him, wiping water from her eyes with one hand, and rubbing the skinned place on her knee.

"Hey, kiddo. What's wrong?" Josh asked automatically, smiling at the child. She looked up at him, and sniffled.

"Th-the other kids won't let me play on the swings," she sobbed, burying her face in her hands.

"That's not nice of them. Oh, what happened to your knee?" the blonde teenager asked, noticing the scrape. She rubbed it self-consciously.

"The big boy over there pushed me," she explained, sniffling again. Josh scowled, and looked in the direction the child's finger was pointing. A beefy boy of not more than eight was going down the slide. When he hit the bottom, he rushed back to the ladder, shoved another child out of the way, and climbed back up.

"Well, he needs to learn it's not nice to push other people," the blond teenager said calmly, getting up. The little girl followed him, wide-eyed, as he walked up to the slide.

"Outta my way!" the boy snarled at a small child, roughly pushing them aside. The toddler's face scrunched up, and she started to cry, loudly. While he waited for the boy to come back down the slide, Josh took the time to calm himself enough that he wouldn't just punch the kid in the head, even though that seemed to be what the boy might need.

"Hey, kid!" the teenager said sharply, catching the young boy's wrist as he tried to go by. The small, green eyes looked up at him with a coldness Rachel had never used on him in the short time he'd known her.

"What'd you want?" the boy demanded snootily, sticking out his lower lip.

"It's not nice to be going around shoving the other kids. I think you owe them an apology," Josh said coolly, folding his arms across his chest. The child stuck out his tongue, and tried to move past the muscular teen.

"They shouldn't be getting in my way," the kid snapped. Josh grabbed the kid by the shoulder again.

"Come here," he said calmly. Leaning forward, he whispered something into the bratty child's ear. A look of horror crossed the boy's face, and he ran off. The little girl who had first came up to him looked up at Josh in surprise.

"What'd you say to him?" she asked in surprised shock. Josh chuckled softly.

"I told him that if he didn't start being nice, I'd give him a mega-wedgie," he explained. The children all looked up at the teenager in respectful silence for a moment, then went back to their activities. Josh left the park, deciding to head for his house, finally. The sky was turning from blue to light rose, and the scene calmed him. He'd be able to handle this, in time. But not yet. Not while the anger was still so fresh. Quite suddenly, Josh found himself turning down another road, still going towards his house, but not exactly. He was almost surprised when he found himself at the coffee shop less than ten blocks from his house. The bell tied to the glass and metal door jangled loudly as he pushed it open. Several people looked up at him, then turned back to their steaming cups. Josh wandered up to the counter, and took a seat.

"Hey there, young man. You want anything?" the plump, smiling woman on the other side of the barrier asked, leaning on the counter. Josh looked up.

"Yeah, sure. You have rootbeer?" he replied. The woman nodded, and turned away.

"You look like someone with problems," she said a moment later, handing him a tall glass. Josh accepted the cup, and slowly stirred the ice around with the straw.

"How'd you guess?" he asked, sipping the drink. She laughed softly.

"I'm pretty good at reading people," she explained. Josh nodded in reply. The woman moved off to attend to other customers. Josh contemplated the glass in his hand. Life had been so messed up lately. He wondered how much his rattled brain could take. Outside, the rose sky darkened.

Half an hour later, Josh left his half-finished glass, and exited the coffee shop. The cool night air brushed past his face, relaxing him. The young man glanced at his watch. Just past nine. He had classes the next day, it was time to turn in. The teen left the coffee shop storefront, intent on walking home. He'd left his jacket at home, but it didn't matter. Del Oro never got that cold. The soft wind continued to brush past him, mussing his hair. He came to a crosswalk. Glancing both ways, the boy stepped into the street. Abruptly, a car tore out of nowhere, and tried to run him down. Josh barely managed to save his neck, by throwing himself back. He landed hard on his backside, as the car's brakes squealed, and the vehicle stopped on the side of the road. As the wary teenager watched, three men got out of the car, and sauntered up to him.

"Kinda late for a walk, ain't it kid?" a tall one asked with a leery grin, running a hand through his black hair. Josh shrugged, trying to hide his rising hesitancy.

"Sorry about almost running you down back there, by the way," the second, a short, burly blond guy offered. He had hard gray eyes that made Josh even more uncomfortable.

"No problem," the boy returned calmly, getting to his feet.

"By the way, you wouldn't be Josh McGrath, would you?" the third man added.

"Actually, I am. Why do you ask?" the teen acknowledged, checking his hands for scrapes. They were a little red, but no open wounds.

"We ahh...wanted your autograph," Gray-eyes offered lamely, checking his pockets for something. After a moment, he sighed irritably.

"Hey, do you have a pen?" he asked, looking at Josh. The teenager shrugged apologetically.

"Sorry, don't carry one," he added, spreading his hands. The guy sighed, and glanced at his buddies. Both shook their heads.

"Ahh, sorry. But, I gotta get going. See ya," Josh said casually, starting to move past the gray-eyed man. A hand clamped down on his arm, arresting his movement.

"What's the rush, kid? Come on, there's always a pen in the car," the first male said, a slow grin covering his face.

"Oh...sure, why not?" Josh stuttered hesitantly. Something wasn't right. However, he allowed himself to be led to the still running vehicle. A pretty, dark-haired woman was behind the wheel.

"Good job, men. You got the right kid," she said approvingly, removing her sunglasses to reveal cold black eyes. Josh's jaw tightened up further.

"Look...I really need to get going, so do you want that autograph, or what?" he asked tensely. The woman laughed.

"Autograph? Sochez, what have you been telling this kid? We don't want your autograph, young man. We want you," she said to the tall guy, still chuckling.

"Shut up, Reda," Sochez snapped angrily.

"Don't mind them. What she meant was that our boss wants a personal appearance," the gray-eyed man explained lamely.

"So, come on, let's go!" the cheery young man on the teenager's right encouraged, pushing him towards the car. Josh ducked out from the half-circle the men had formed around him.

"Sorry, I don't ride with strangers," he told them, and took off. Behind him, he heard shouting, and something that sounded like gunfire. _They're shooting at me!_ he thought wildly, just as something struck his mid-back. Metal ropes exploded out, and wrapped around his upper body, effectively pinning his arms to his sides. A second blast caught his legs. He hit the ground hard on his left side.

"Relax, boy. That the worst _we're_ gonna do to you," Gray-eyes assured, picking up the teenager.

"What gives?! I didn't do anything to you guys!" Josh replied, squirming against his binds. His comment was ignored as his captors loaded him into the car, and blind-folded him. The blonde teenager did his best to relax, despite his growing fear and bewilderment. This was even more confusing than when Nez and the others caught him. Sweat beaded on his forehead, soaking into the blindfold. Suddenly, he realized that they were moving.

"Reda, next time, let us handle the target. You just freak them out," the teenager could hear Gray-eyes scolding.

"Like you had it under control! Anyone could see that kid was ready to bolt!" Reda screeched in reply.

"We almost had him calmed down. If you hadn't opened that big, lipstick-coated mouth of yours, we could have gotten him to come quietly, and by the time he realized what was going on, we'd be well on our way," the first man growled in reply. Josh swallowed, and fidgeted. Instantly, something was rammed into his side, hard enough to leave a mild bruise.

"Stay still, you little punk," the holder of the gun snarled. The panicked teenager recognized the voice as belonging to the cheerful guy. _Doesn't sound that friendly now,_ Josh thought wryly.

"Hey, Banto, lay off. We've got the kid scared enough already. He doesn't need you trying to give him a heart attack," Sochez snapped. The kidnapped teenager felt the object at his side shift slightly.

"I'm not taking any chances, Sochez. I read that report. If what it said was true, this kid's a bigger danger to us than we are to him. He makes any sudden moves, I _will_ blow a hole in his side. You know me," Banto retorted. The comment only scared the teenager further, but he forced himself to keep still.

"Edgy people make sudden move, Banto. Now, get that gun away from him, and don't do that again, or I'll personally kick your tail," Sochez ordered. The gun barrel vanished from Josh's side, and the boy relaxed, a microscopic fraction.

*****

After what seemed like days, to the imprisoned teenager, the car finally stopped. Josh yelped in surprise when a hand grabbed the cloth on his right shoulder, and roughly yanked him from the vehicle.

"Should we take the blindfold off?" Sochez muttered, more to himself.

"Nah. But, weren't we supposed to have him unconscious by the time we take him to the boss?" Reda replied.

Leave that to me," Banto offered, cracking his knuckles. That was the last sound Josh heard before a rock-like fist connected with his temple, and he hit the floor with a grunt. The black-out quickly followed.

"I'm sure there was a better way than trying to crack his head open," Sochez chided, picking up the unconscious boy, easily tossing him over one shoulder.

"Worked, didn't it?" Banto argued defensively.

"Yeah, I suppose," Sochez sighed.

"Well, come on. We still have to drop the kid off," the tall, black-haired man ordered, nodding to the building before them.

Josh woke not more than half an hour later, and attempted, weakly, to stretch. Only to find himself in a greater bind than before. The ropes that had caught him were still holding his arms uselessly at his sides, but another set had been added. The confines made breathing a little difficult. Or maybe it was just his panicked, confused mind. Then he realized that he'd been tied to a chair, and more importantly, he wasn't alone. Leaning quietly against the far wall, was a gray-haired man in a dark suit. A slow smile spread across the adult's face as he strode over to the bound teen.

"Welcome, Mr. McGrath. I apologize for the rather, _confining_ seat, but we can't have you escaping," the man greeted, in a thick Russian accent.

"No problem. Just curious here: Who are you, how do you know my name, and furthermore, why did your thugs attack me?" Josh retorted easily. In response, the man drew a gun, and aimed it at the teen's head.

"My name is Ivan Vostok, I've been watching you for sometime, and lastly, you're about to die," Vostok explained patiently, closing the remaining distance separating the two of them, and aimed the gun right between the boy's eyes. Josh flinched, but rapidly recovered. Now was definitely not the time to let fear show.

"You didn't answer my last question. Why am I here? My stupid teenage goofing off somehow mess up something your men were doing?" the teen asked boldly. Vostok chuckled coldly.

"If you weren't told before, then you can go to your grave ignorant," he intoned nastily, cocking the hammer. _Guess I'm gonna die looking down a gun barrel_, Josh thought. Suddenly, the doors blew open, thanks to a sharp kick from the outside, sending a small cloud of dust up as the doors were ripped clean off their hinges. When the dust cleared, Rachel was standing in the doorway, a gun in her hand.

"Ivan Vostok, why am I not surprised?" she almost sighed, placing her unarmed hand on her hip. Instinctively, Josh chose to keep his mouth shut.

"Stay out of this, young lady. N-tek has no business involving the boy. So, unless you want to die with him, I'd suggest leaving. Now!" the older man barked. Rachel dropped her grave expression just long enough to flash Josh a reassuring smile.

"Vostok, you know as well as I of that boy's connections to N-tek," she said suddenly, in a loud voice.

"You're rapidly losing my charitable feeling," Vostok growled, turning the weapon in Rachel's direction. 

"Really. I suppose I'll have to try harder," was the quick response. Behind him, Josh heard someone approaching.

"It that's the way you want it," Ivan shrugged, the fired. Rachel dropped, and a large hole appeared in the wall behind her.

"Mr. Vostok, your aim leaves something to be desired," the female agent taunted. Veins stood out on the man's neck. A hand landed on Josh's shoulder.

"Shh," Berto warned softly, before the older teen spoke. Still confused, Josh obeyed. The Spanish agent began fiddling with the binds holding the teenager to the chair. A moment later, Josh felt the first layer loosen. Quickly, the younger teenager worked on the second set.

"Come on, let's go!" Berto insisted after a moment. Josh reached down, and strained to pull off his leg binds. The younger teen sighed, and moved around to get them. Vostok happened to look over, Rachel momentarily losing his interest.

"Berto, look out!" Josh yelled, just as Vostok fired. In a flash move, the blonde teenager grabbed the younger teen's shoulders, and pitched forward. The chair exploded. The two boys landed roughly side by side a few feet from the Russian. He smiled evilly, and aimed. Rachel tackled him from behind. They hit the floor a second later, her knees digging into the small of his back.

"Go Rachel," Josh grinned, as Berto finished getting his senses back after cracking his head on the floor. The terrorist scowled, and threw the lightweight agent off. Before any of the other occupants of the room could react, the man threw down an object of some sort on the floor, filling the room with smoke.

"Whoa," the once imprisoned teenager commented when the smoke cleared. He and Berto got up, and brushed themselves off, just as Rachel came over.

"You all right?" the female agent asked quickly. Josh reached up to touch the bruise on his temple, and smiled reassuringly.

"Yeah, I'm cool. A bruise or two, but I'm fine," the boy added.

"Then I suggest we make our exit," Rachel replied. The two boys nodded, and moved to follow her.

Shortly after, the two agents and one civilian were on the road back to base.

"So, how'd you find me?" Josh questioned suddenly, halfway into the trip. Rachel and Berto were silent for a moment.

"A tracer was planted on you the day you learned about N-tek and were infused," Rachel said finally.

"Oh. I was just wondering," the blonde teenager responded.

"You're not mad, _hermano_?" Berto inquired.

"Mad about something that saved my tail? Are you kidding, bro?" Josh retorted smartly. The Spanish agent nodded in understanding.

"That's a relief," Rachel muttered under her breath.

"But, I've been wondering one thing..." the younger blonde started.

"Which is what, _hermano_?" Berto was quick to question. Almost casually, the older teenager fingered one of the rope marks on his left arm.

"The nano-probes did more than just double my strength and speed, didn't they?" he asked finally.

"Josh, I assure you. That's--" Rachel began.

"Rachel, after what he's been through, I think he's got a right to know," the Spanish teen said calmly, cutting her off,

"Hmm? Right to know what?" Josh interjected, his curiosity rising.

"We were given specific instructions," the blonde female agent argued, ignoring the teen's comment.

"My point exactly. We both know that he could have easily gotten away from Vostok's thugs. But because _he_ didn't know, he almost died. That's reason enough for me to tell him," Berto argued coolly.

"Wha-what? What are you two talking about?" Josh interjected, looking back and forth between the two agents. They were still ignoring him.

"All right! You tell him, if you want. But, you can be the one to explain this to Smith," Rachel snapped, finally giving in. With a triumphant grin, the younger agent turned to the blonde teen.

"You're suspicions were right. There's more to your abilities than just doubled strength and speed. When certain signals reach the probes, they can increase your speed and strength ten fold, and blend your body with your surroundings. Besides that, they can project a full body holographic image over your entire body, even changing your eye, hair, and skin color," the Spanish teenager explained.

"Oh. Cool. So, how do I tap into these other powers?" Josh questioned, very interested.

"Rachel and I were expecting you to find out sooner or later. So, I've been working on the bio-link," Berto explained simply.

"Bio-link? What's that?" the blonde teen pressed.

"A wristband that can send out the signals for the points I mentioned. Furthermore, we can have a console built that will allow whoever is at the console to see and hear whatever you do," the younger teenager replied. Rachel smiled to herself as he kept talking.

*****

Days later, Josh had, without his father's knowledge or permission, had the bio-link installed. Ne had prepared an argument, and thought he was ready to face his father. Not too long after school, he stood outside Jeff's office.

"Here goes nothing," he muttered to himself, then pushed open the door. Jefferson glanced up from some paperwork, and smiled, seeing the visitor.

"Hello, son. How was school today?" he greeted. Josh wandered up to the desk, hands behind his back, toying nervously with the object in his hands.

"Learned all sorts of new tricks. Ah, still a few kinks to work out," he replied casually, holding out the shapeless wood and metal blob. Jeff sighed, slightly shaking his head. Josh swallowed, and took a deep breath.

"Look, dad. I've been thinking. It's about time I joined N-tek, officially," the boy suggested, showing his best hopeful smile.

"Absolutely not," Smith was quick to attempt to stop the conversation.

"Dad!" Josh objected angrily.

"I said no. It's way too dangerous. Besides that, you are much too young," his father interrupted. A shadow crossed the boy's face.

"I'm older than Berto!" he countered, slamming his hands down on the desk. Jeff stood to match his son eye for eye.

"Berto's a lab rat," he retorted coolly. The younger man glowered at him. That was taking things too far. The only thing holding the flood of screamed argument was Josh reminding himself that his father still didn't know about Vostok's attack.

"But--" the blonde teenager opened his mouth to defend his friend.

"Besides, Josh McGrath can't run around the globe battling terrorists, and still expect to lead a normal life. Going to classes, taking Laura Chen to the movies..." Smith cut the boy off. Josh sighed loudly. His father was going to be upset, to say the least. But, it was probably his only chance of convincing the man. The teen looked his father in the eye.

"Then Josh McGrath's out of the picture. The name...is Max Steel," he said evenly, passing his hand over his face. The holographic imaging of the probes activated, changing his blond hair to brown, and his eyes from brown to blue. He folded his arms across his chest stubbornly, and fixed a cool glare on Jefferson. To "Max's" surprise, his father started laughing. The confident look in the teenager's eyes quickly melted into confusion.

"All right. All right. If it means that much to you," Jeff relented, still chuckling. Max's eyes lit up. He'd done it. And so it begins...

  


_Okay, just another look into what I do in my spare time. Vostok probably didn't even come near Josh, but this is one of my theories on why our boy was so adamant about joining. Well, catch ya later! Luv ya all!_

-Maxy Steel


End file.
